to the wind
by Penultima
Summary: The final farewell. He had to teach her to let go. She had to live again, love again. He needed her to let him disappear. But it was so hard. Like asking someone to dice you up and throw the pieces to the wind. YunaxTidus. Rewritten


"Yuna."

His voice was muted, swallowed by the roar of the surrounding falls. Nevertheless, it was heard.

"Yuna?" She could feel his breath against her neck, could hear his gentle, hushed voice whispering against her ear, like a shy, lingering breath of wind. She bit her lip, closed her eyes and wondered, quietly, if this was really real.

"Is that really you?" Her voice hit him like a hammer. He had dreamed of that voice, had thought of it and pondered on it for hours on end, and when he heard it he placed his hand on her bare shoulder, calloused fingers and gloved palm against her soft, smooth skin. It hurt. Nabbed at his heart with a hundred tiny needles and left it to slowly bleed.

He turned her around, and her eyes locked into his; mismatched green-blue with his own blue ones. He kicked himself inwardly and said please please please

don't let me cry.

After all, he couldn't ask for something that wasn't his anymore.

"Were you looking for me, Yuna?"

He watched her eyes bubble up with tears, and breathed deep when she lay her head against his shoulder, defeated.

He held her like that, for some time. Her limp form against his, and he revelled in the moment. She just stayed like that; wrapped in his arms, cocooned in the simple knowledge that he was _there._

Finally _there_.

It was a long time before he came to his senses, and his heart plumetted to the ground as he remembered what he had to do.

Slowly, softly, he lowered his lips down to her ear, and spoke in a trembling whisper.

"Will you stop looking for me, Yuna?"

Her head snapped up to look at him; eyes wide in surprise, sculpted lips agape as she flailed about in her own head, trying to understand.

She looked so hurt.

_Please don't look at me like that._

She looked crushed; betrayed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he managed to register a choking pain that began in his heart. It made him feel like he was being cut apart into tiny little pieces; and those pieces lay in a mess at her feet.

"If I asked you to?"

He swallowed, and she choked on her tears.

"Will you stop living for the past, Yuna?

"Stop living for the dead?"

She seemed to gain her voice.

"You're not dead." It was nowhere near a shout, or a cry of outrage. But her voice was steady, sure, strong.

"I'm not even real." He responded, softly, and vainly he hoped that what he just said wasn't real.

"My _feelings_ are real!" She cried out, protested. "Does that mean _nothing_?"

He had to look away. It was the strength in her eyes; the strength that fed her anger that made him feel increasingly weak.

"I don't know." He confessed, and it felt like those were the only things he could say.

She had almost nothing else to say to him either. She cried her heart out; her body wracked by sobs that made her chest heave and her head pound; her heart go wild and her lungs threaten to fail her.

He was quiet, wordless, lips crashed together in a taut white line so no selfish words would come out.

"Is that what you really want?" She managed through her tears.

_No!_ he wanted to shout, wanted to run and hold her and never ever ever ever let go. _I want you to be mine forever._

_Yes._ He wanted to tell her. Wanted to convince her that he wanted the best for her,

"No." He was crying. The tears were cold on his cheeks, and her figure blurred and distorted like the image on a glazed windowpane. "No."

He turned away, ashamed that she could see his weakness. Angry at himself because her let his selfishness get in the way of her happiness.

Her future.

She had stopped crying. She looked at him; his face turned away from her, and felt her heart breathe again, felt it shudder as she fell in love with him all over again. This goldern-haired, blue-eyes dream ravaged by his own nightmares.

And he expected her to let go?

Quietly he tried to collect himself; tried to stop the tears and try to be strong. Then he turned back to her and said, "No."

"I want to be the person you can't live without." His voice was quiet, hushed like a breath of wind. "But you lived without me anyway." He smiled, then walked over and wrapped her arms around him.

She leaned against him, his chin on her hair, his arms around her, and she tried so hard to ignore the pining, weeping part of her heart that warned her he was going away. She brushed it away and tried to focus on _this_, on _now_, and wished with all her heart it wouldn't end.

But then he began to fade.

"…no!" She held on tighter, and yet under her touch, his body became ghostly; and she felt a chill emanate from his fingers, into her skin. She strained to hear the abating sound of his breath; to smell the sun-drenched smell of his skin as it faded into the intoxicating perfume of the flowers around them.

Around _her_.

"Will you stop looking for me, Yuna?" And as he said this, she wept. Bitter and desperate and increasingly alone as he continued to disappear. As his existence waned, there grew thorns around her heart, with needles that burned red hot and battered her heart; puncturing it and allowing it to bleed.

"Look for another life. For a reason, a purpose. Look for the things that make you feel alive!" It was the forced enthusiasm in his voice that made her cry more. And she had to try so hard not to tell him to stop. She needed this lie too. She needed to believe she could keep going.

"Like that guy… Baralai, was it? He'll treat you right. Or Buddy!" a laugh escaped her throat, along with the tears. She smiled quietly, as he gabbled along.

"…would you do that for me, Yuna?"

_would you let me disappear?_

And she had _nothing_ to say. She just held him tighter, tried to; holding on to that fading apparition as you would a dream that began to slip away.

She screamed; wailed in outrage as her _life_ was torn away from her; the very thing her heart pined for for so long, so easily taken away.

And then, at long last, there was nothing left for her to hold; nothing in her hands, nothing to embrace,

nothing to hold on to.

The pyreflies floated away slowly, moaning and resonating her pain in their timeless echoes across the Farplane.

She was alone,

so she gathered her arms around herself, and continued to cry.

_Maybe it's better this way._

Around her there blew a shy breath of wind, and she scattered his pieces,

and let go.


End file.
